


Enough

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: Meet You at the Bar: Seia Shepard x Garrus Vakarian [2]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom, Mass Effect 3 - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Mass Effect 3 after Priority: Tuchanka and Priority: Citadel II.  Shepard’s been having a tough time coping with things and people and the whole effing universe. Garrus helps. So does ryncol. So does denial.  Angst, drinking, cuddles, rinse, repeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

Shepard didn’t care who saw her running down the streets of the Citadel. She knew what she looked like, a human fleeing from something she could not bear to face, and she didn’t give a fuck.

Ten minutes earlier she had been standing in a hospital room with Kolyat reading Thane’s prayers in her ear. There were no tears on Thane’s face this time; his son was with him, his friend was with him, and he had saved a life this day. It was a good death, part of her said. 

But the other part of her was running from the hospital as quickly as she could, slamming into the wall of the elevator so hard it took her breath away. The full events of the day washed over her and she realized she was shaking. Kaidan was alive, Udina was dead, the Council was saved. Thane was dead, and there she was in the middle of it again. And she wished she could hear Thane murmuring prayer to Amonkira once again.

Shepard called the elevator down to Purgatory. She barely noticed the way her feet took her to the bar. A salarian obligingly gave her drink after drink. After four in short succession she staggered, staying upright only through sheer willpower.

Surely she couldn’t feel in this haze. The room rocked and swayed around her. Bodies pressed against her and she tried to narrow her focus to movement, to squealing sound, to the physical, to anything but the thoughts rolling around her head. She felt strangers all around her, and yet pounding with the music was the realization that she hadn’t thought before shooting Udina. It had been pure reflex. Next time, it might not be a traitor at the end of that barrel. Next time, it might be a friend. Hell, it had almost been that way today.

As Jack might have said, Shepard was losing her shit.

She grinned at the thought. But thinking about Jack reminded her of working against the Collectors, and then there she was, missing Thane again. Missing Mordin, too, and his patter songs. Wondering who was going to fall next.

She stumbled, tripped on her own boots. She landed hard on her hands and knees, and rolled instinctively, dodging the dancing feet of her fellow revelers. They were in denial too. Eat drink and be merry, she thought blearily, coming to a stop against a wall.

She clawed her way back to a crouching position, swaying unsteadily on her haunches. Her chest felt tight, and her head felt like a balloon on a string in a gale. Now she remembered that the last drink the salarian had handed her was ryncol. Fuck.

A hand was on her shoulder, hauling her up. She leaned heavily against the body attached to the hand, and squinted up at it. 

"Shepard," Garrus said, steadying her. His arm slipped around her, and she was grateful for the way the room’s spinning slowed a little. "What happened?"

"Ryncol happened. Today happened. That’s what happened," she said. Garrus led her to an empty couch, and she fell onto it gracelessly. It was only Garrus hastily sitting down beside her that kept her from tumbling over sideways.

"Thane’s dead," she said, and the quiet look on Garrus’ face nearly undid her. 

"The way he fought today, you would never have known he was ill," said Garrus softly. "He died a hero." 

"I’m sick of dead heroes, Garrus." She waved a hand irritably in the air. "Ash, Mordin, Thane. I got a bad feeling that that list is going to get a helluva lot longer soon, and I — I can’t —" Her voice caught in her throat, and she looked away, quickly, before he could see how upset she was.

"Don’t shut me out," Garrus warned. "Hey, Shepard, come back."

Shepard leaned down, resting her head in her hand. She couldn’t bear to say what she was thinking. Instead she asked, ”Can you get me back to the Normandy?” She felt foolish saying it, but she knew Garrus would not mind helping.

She did not remember the trip back. Nor did she remember Garrus hurrying her past Joker and EDI, neatly sidestepping Samantha, or smoothly ushering her into the elevator without the crew wondering just how trashed she had gotten. She found herself back in her cabin, laying on her side on the bed, Garrus sitting on the far edge. She looked at the fish, looked at him, wondered what was wrong with her, told herself she knew the answer.

"Do you want me to stay?" Garrus asked. He looked down at his hands, almost like he was the one who needed to be embarrassed. She remembered the way the two of them used to fit together.

Her filters were down. She wanted to stay strong, for Garrus, for her team, for Earth. But right here, right now, she was scared. 

"Will you —" She swallowed. "Please, Garrus. Can you stay with me?"

He reached out and touched her shoulder, caressed her arm gently as he pulled back. She could see the worry in his eyes, the fear he felt for her, and she forced herself to smile back at him. 

She knew he could see through it, though. Sure enough, he said, “You’re not okay, Shepard. Don’t tell me you are.” He stood up, and began to shed layers of his armor, setting them carefully down on the couch. He dimmed the lights in the cabin, setting the fish tank lights down so that only twinkling tiny stars could be seen glinting through the water. 

She felt the covers lift, felt his familiar weight on the bed, felt his skin — so different from her own — against hers. She settled under the reach of his arm, curling back against him. 

"I’m not okay," she agreed quietly.

"I know," he said, his breath warm against her neck. His cheek nudged hers, a soft kiss. "And whenever you want to tell me about it, I’ll be here."

"All right." She reached for his hand, twining her five fingers against his three. "Garrus - thank you." 

"Don’t mention it." He laughed, gently.

She closed her eyes. Familiar faces, fallen faces, greeted her; her heart pounded, and she shivered in her sleep. But when the faces pressed too close, she only had to shift a little in her bed to feel the turian beside her, and she quieted. For now, perhaps, it was enough. 

It had to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Shepard :( She is one tough lady but in my head she's not always got the best coping skills. Which just makes her that much more loveable. And Garrus is just... ahh, I love him.


End file.
